Everlife (Everlife #3)

Now to get free. I reach through the bars of the cage to try and jimmy the lock, but it holds.

In the distance, I catch a glimmer of color. A man is peeking around a corner. Looking for someone specific? As soon as he deduces no one is nearby, he rushes my way. A woman follows behind him, a basket clutched to her chest.

“Here. Ambrosia.” She shoves a small bottle in my direction. “Drink.”

She’s just like the others. She can’t be trusted.

I realize I’m nodding, and I gnash my teeth.

How quickly circumstances can change. How quickly feelings can change.

Maybe she means to hurt me, or maybe she does intend to help me. Either way, Myriadian ambrosia—if that’s what this is—will do me more harm than good, strengthening my dark side while weakening my Light side. After my tangle with the Veil of Midnight, I’m sure of it.

I return the bottle to the woman’s waiting grip. She frowns but accepts, and hurries on to the next prisoner, who eagerly drinks. Color and tone returns to his pallid, sagging flesh. How long has he been locked up?

So, she is helping. Her willingness to put herself in danger reminds me that there are good people in this realm, the same way there are bad people in my realm.

“Hurry,” her companion calls. He’s keeping watch a few yards away.

“Can you open the cage?” I ask her as she feeds yet another prisoner. “Do you have a key?”

Her mournful gaze slips over me. “No, I’m sorry. I wish I could do more, but…”

She can’t. I get it. She reaches through the bars of Victor’s crate and tugs at the binding over his mouth.

Panic infuses me, and I shout, “You gotta go.” I can’t let her succeed. “Go now. Before the authorities arrive.”

Panic infuses them, too, and the couple rushes away, desperate to avoid detection.

I must escape. And soon. No telling when Zhi and Javier will realize Victor isn’t Victor and return.

Again, there’s a glimmer of color in the distance. I turn my head to study the newcomer more thoroughly, and my heart slams against my ribs. A familiar face barrels toward me.

This is Lina. My heart soars; I guess it recognizes what my eyes do not. This is the woman who played with me when my parents were too busy. The one who helped me survive Many Ends the first three times.

I love her, I do. Despite the fact that she once stabbed me with the end of a paintbrush.

“This is for you.” She tosses a vial of liquid in my direction. Manna. “Bottoms up.”

“How did you die?” A lump grows in my throat as her message reverberates inside my mind. Did I tell you I died? I’m sorry I killed Killian. I cried. You cried. I cried some more. I’m glad my husband made it up to you. Light was the answer. Light was always the answer.

“Walked across the street at just the right time. Boom. Crash.”

A crash was “just the right time”? I drain the contents of the vial. Strength plumps my muscles, fortifies my bones. The darkness wanes, the fog of dismay clearing from my head.

“I’m here to help you get into Many Ends.”

Whoa. She’s speaking in complete sentences, and present tense. “If you’re here to hurt Killian—”

“I would never hurt your boyfriend,” she says, adamant.

And yet you’re going to kill him. Uh, how will that help him, Auntie dearest?

A group of people rushes behind her, startling me— astounding me. Surely my eyes deceive me. Archer, Raanan, Clay, Reed and Biscuit cannot be here, in Myriad. Cannot be perfectly alive.

“I don’t understand.” I shake my head, thinking the image will fade. Lo and behold, it remains, and elation consumes me. This is real. This is happening.

“Guess what, guess what, guess what.” The words burst from Biscuit, as if he can hold them back no longer. “Lina contacted Archer, and we met her at the Veil of Midnight, and she snuck us inside. We’re the rescue crew!”

Are you freaking kidding me? “Guys, you could have burned to ash. The Veil of Midnight is a death trap for Troikans.”

“True,” Lina says, “but that was a chance I was willing to take. You’re connected to Killian, and the Troikans are connected to you. I figured they’d make it through just fine.”

A chance she had been willing to take. Because she figured. Because my friends mean nothing to her.

Fury and gratitude mix and mingle inside me, leaving me reeling.

“Killian took the chance and entered Troika,” Archer says.

“He was forced,” I remind him.

“Well, you took the chance. How could we do any less?”

Lina steps aside, and Archer presses a severed thumb into the lock. Click. “Took a page from your book. Courtesy of a Magister,” he says with a grin. “Had to hunt one down before coming to see you. Totally worth the hassle.”

The lock opens without further ado, and my cage door swings out of the way. At that moment, I’m just appreciative. I climb out of my prison, my legs trembling, and straighten. I don’t care that I’m in nothing but a shirt and undergarments.

Archer winds an arm around my waist to hold me steady, then places a second vial of manna at my lips. I drain the contents; sweet liquid manna pours down my throat. Fresh strength. Steady legs. In seconds, I can stand on my own.

“I don’t know what to say.” I scratch Biscuit behind his ears. “I want to yell at you for risking your lives, but thank-you for saving mine.”

“These are for you.” Lina hands me a pair of jeans and a pair of boots, both in my size. Guess it helps to know the future before it happens, and everything your team is going to need.

As I dress, I say to Archer, “You defected, and your face is recognizable. Why weren’t you stopped as soon as you entered the realm?”

“I’m no longer part of their Grid. No one ever thought I’d be able to return to Myriad. And I did my best to keep out of view.” Sadness creeps over his expression as he scans the City of Carnal Delights. “I could have made a difference here, wanted to, but my efforts were always in vain.”

Sometimes I forget he grew up here, a vital part of Myriadian society, at one with the darkness. Oh, how he’s changed. Now he is the essence of Light.

“Killian,” he says now, and motions to the cage across from mine. “We should—”

“That isn’t Killian. It’s Victor.” And he’s still trying to fight through his bonds.

“Deacon, Clementine and Kayla remained in Troika,” he adds. “Kayla made the change. She’s now a Conduit like the rest of us. They are all working with the princess, helping her cleanse the Abrogates. And our friends aren’t the only ones who have made the change. There are others. Many others. Those who used to be everyday average citizens. The number grows by the hour.”

Shock punches me. “More than seven?”

He nods. “Twenty-six at last count.”

Shock! Asteroid number 26, Proserpina, was named after the Queen of the Underworld.

I’m pretty sure I’m headed to the underworld myself.

“Any other Architects?” I ask.

“Yes.” Clay grins and spreads his arms, revealing a horse branded into his wrist. “Us.”

My chest constricts with joy. The war will come to an end, and we will win.

“Soooo. How happy are you to see me?” Biscuit bounds in front of me, grinning and panting and vibrating with eagerness.

“The happiest.”

He has a full arsenal hanging at his sides, weapons stuffed into sheathes. I claim a Sunray, street name Light’erup. The gun shoots beams of Light, and—happiness unfurls inside me. My short swords are here. I tremble as I shove my arms through their harness, anchoring the weapons against my back. The familiar weight comforts me.

A furious male bellow suddenly pierces the air. “Sound the alarm. Someone! Anyone! Ten Lockwood is free.”

Victor. He’s unbound.

Hate, love? Let him live, kill him?

Clay unsheathes a Sunray of his own and aims at Victor. “Be quiet or die.”

Still the traitor shouts. “Help! I’m Victor Prince, and I’m trapped in Killian Flynn’s Shell!”

“Time to go, go, go,” Lina says. “Got to get the belle to the ball, so I can rescue my husband.”

Yes, she mentioned a husband before, but I’m shocked all over again. “You’re married?”